Marked
by magicalprowess
Summary: Soulmate AU fluff :) enjoy! P.S. Thank you all SO much for favoriting and commenting on my other stories - you all are why I keep writing. I love how supportive this Fandom is... you all are da real MVP's!
1. Chapter 1

Soulmate markings were extraordinarily rare in the Wizarding world. At one point they had been more commonplace, as they ran through the ancestral lines of old Wizarding families - but over time Witches and Wizards had seemed to take control of their own fates, often ignoring their markings altogether. A soulmate marking was of course no guarantee that you would actually _meet_ your predestined partner; only that one existed, somewhere in the world. Most with the markings never actually found their soulmates at all, instead falling in love with whomever was in closer proximity and living out quite happy lives, thank you very much.

It was so rare now, in fact, that children with soulmate markings were made into a bit of a spectacle. They were almost always teased in school, and it was always harder for them to date as they got older. There was a risk, you see, in falling in love with someone who could potentially leave you some day for a complete stranger. Eventually it came to pass that most of those with markings simply refused to put their lives on hold and wait for someone who might very well never come along.

It was with some amount of surprise that the Scamander's second son was born marked. It _had_ run in their family, but not for a very long time; the last being Mr. Scamander's great-great-great grandfather (who, coincidentally, never found his own marked partner, though he had loved his wife very, very much). The Scamanders were a simple people who didn't put much stock in such fanciful ideas as 'soulmates,' and so they raised their son much the same way. He of course grew up with the knowledge of what his mark was and what it meant, but, on the whole, never gave much thought to it at all.

Newton Scamander, the boy in question, grew up all freckles and legs and arms. He never got on well with other boys his age, as he wasn't the type to throw rocks at stray Kneazles or spit long distances. Newton instead preferred to spend his time climbing trees and watching Bowtruckles, or picking Dirigible plums in the summer, or staying up late to draw crude sketches of Porlocks. He was constantly distracted, often forgetting to eat his dinner or brush his teeth. He would accompany his mother to work and assist her with the care of the Hippogriffs she bred, often going missing and always to be found in deep conversation with the newly-hatched Hippogriffs in their nests.

By the time he had entered school, Newton had almost completely forgotten about the strangely shaped mark on his wrist. It wasn't until after he had been sorted into Hufflepuff and had seated himself at his table that a small, blonde-haired girl next to him had noticed it and gasped.

"Is that - " she had said, reaching over and grabbing his hand, pushing his sleeve back, "a _soulmate marking_?" He flinched, not used to being touched.

"Oh," he said, not meeting her eyes. "Yes."

The girl had inspected it, squinting her eyes and twisting his wrist painfully to get a better look. "What is it?" She had asked, nose crinkled. "A flower?" Newton pulled his arm back, holding it defensively against his body. The girl's eyes narrowed at him but he ignored her, turning back to his plate in silence.

It _was_ a flower of course, and Newton had read many Herbology books to figure out just which one. It wasn't until later, while flipping through one of his dad's old Potions texts, did he recognize it. Dahlias were not uncommon flowers on the whole, though he had never seen them around his house growing up. He had learned everything there was to know about them, but no information on the flower gave him any sort of indication of why they'd be important to him. He had asked his mom about dahlias once, but she had frowned and told him not to waste his life worrying about it.

"At the end of the day, Newton, it's just a mark," she had said with kind eyes. "Your destiny is yours alone to create. Don't let anyone tell you any different."

Still, the idea of having a soulmate was sometimes very comforting to him, especially in school. While it was traditionally common to be teased by other children for having a mark, Newton was teased in school for simply being himself. He was quiet and kept alone, preferring to study instead of socialize. As he got older, he distanced himself more and more from other people. He became increasingly interested in observing the magical creatures Hogwarts kept on its grounds, often missing classes completely to observe their behaviors and take notes. By the time he graduated, he was completely enamoured with the idea of studying these fantastic beasts full-time.

He started as many young Wizards do by working for the Ministry, eventually joining the Beast Division and biding his time. He made next to nothing, of course, but poured himself into his work and looked towards the future. When he finally got the opportunity to research beasts in the field for the purpose of writing a book, he jumped on it immediately, soulmate quite forgotten. As far as Newton Scamander was concerned, _this_ was his true destiny. Nobody could tell him any different.

 _ **1929, London**_

Newt hurried down the street with his case, hardly taking notice of his surroundings. In his hand he clutched a small handwritten note, which he kept unfolding and re-reading. His eyes scanned the numbers on the buildings before him.

"1404, 1405, 1406…" His eyes settled on the last door of the block. "1407." He folded his note, placing it in his breast pocket and checking the time. A Bowtruckle, previously hidden, clicked irritably and poked its head out of the pocket as Newt smiled down at him. "We're a bit early, Pickett, but better early than late, right?" The Bowtruckle clicked at him again, diving back down into his coat. Newt stepped up to the door and raised his hand, hesitating momentarily before knocking. The door swung open almost immediately, revealing a short and squat man.

"Mr. Scamander!" He said, beaming. "Welcome, welcome to my home! Please, come in!"

"Ah, thank you," Newt said, stepping into the building. "Mr. Grant, I presume?" Mr. Grant smiled, extending his hand. Instead of taking it, Newt looked past him and into the parlor. "I'm terribly sorry to be early…" Mr. Grant seemed largely undisturbed by Newt's actions, instead shaking his head and smiling.

"No, no, no, none of that," he said. "Come in, come in." Newt followed him into the parlor, sitting uncomfortably on an armchair that Mr. Grant offered him. "Now," he said, sighing as he lowered himself onto the sofa, "I hear you've got yourself a problem?"

Newt fidgeted, eyes darting down to the case that laid at his feet. "Yes," he said slowly. Mr. Grant sensed his hesitation.

"My boy," he started, gently, "I am not one to gossip. I will keep the secrets you ask me to."

Newt nodded curtly and clenched his jaw, finally meeting Mr. Grant's eyes. "I… I've heard that you have spent a lot of time studying Nundus." Mr. Grant raised an eyebrow at him.

"I wonder who you heard that from?" He said, smiling. Newt swallowed.

"Have you... have you ever seen one fall ill?"

Mr. Grant frowned at that. "I've heard of it, but never seen it," he said. His eyes flicked down to the case. "Have you got one?"

Newt was silent for a moment. "Yes," he said finally. Mr. Grant sighed.

"Well, I don't know how much help I'll be," he said, "but I can take a look?" Newt thought for a moment, finally nodding his consent.

"Alright," he said. "I'll show her to you."

Down in the case, Mr. Grant frowned watching the Nundu. Her behavior was very odd indeed. She was laying down in the grass, breathing heavily and licking her paws repeatedly. "How long has she been acting this way?"

Newt frowned. "For a couple of weeks now," he said. "I haven't changed her diet, and she's still so early in her life cycle…" Newt trailed off anxiously. He had never had an issue with one of his creatures that he couldn't fix before, and he was worried sick. Mr. Grant was the only other person in the world who had spent time studying Nundus and survived to catalogue the research. He was Newt's last hope.

"You say nothing new has been added to her environment?" He asked. Newt shook his head.

"No, nothing."

"Curious," Mr. Grant said. He turned to look at Newt. "Mr. Scamander, I'm sorry, but I am not a doctor…"

"You _have_ to help her," Newt said thickly. Mr. Grant was quiet for a moment, thinking.

"I have an idea," he began, "but it's a bit… unorthodox."

Newt smiled at the man. "I'm afraid most of my life is terribly unorthodox, sir."

"Is that so?" Mr. Grant grinned. "Alright. I know a Potions Master who specializes in healing draughts," he said. "Typically she works on people, but she is truly the most talented Potions practitioner in Europe."

Newt frowned. "I'm not sure that makes her qualified to help my Nundu," he said.

Mr. Grant chuckled. "Son, one look at your Nundu and she'll be able to concoct a remedy that will have her fixed up in no time," he said confidently. Newt still seemed unsure. "Mr. Scamander, I wouldn't recommend her if I didn't trust her with my own life," he said. "I'm not sure what else I can offer you…"

Newt watched sadly as the Nundu rolled to her side, softly roaring out in pain.

"Alright," Newt said. "Where is she?"

* * *

You huffed and jumped off your ladder. Your library was a total mess - no matter how many times you promised yourself you would organize it, you never did. In fact, the only time you ever thought about cleaning your library was when you were trying to search through it for something specific. As soon as you found what you were looking for, you'd of course forget all about the organizing. You frowned.

You were looking for a book on the properties of Dittany for some research you were doing on Healing Potions. Running your index finger over the spines of the books on the first shelf, you scanned through the titles quickly. A knock at your door interrupted your concentration.

"Come in," you said absently, waving your wand at the door and opening it. You kneeled down to inspect the books closer.

"Um, hello?" A voice called.

"In here!" You called, pulling a book out and shaking your head when it was the wrong one. You set it on the floor next to you. "Where in Merlin…" You stuck your wand in your mouth, lifting up a heavy pile of books to uncover a box of even more books on the floor.

"Excuse me," a voice said, and you peered over the top of your book pile to see a tall man wearing a blue overcoat in your library.

"Mmmpf," you said, turning and setting the books down next to you.

"I'm sorry?" He said, smiling. You removed your wand from your mouth and stood.

"Hello," you said.

"Hello," he responded. You stood looking at each other for a moment.

"Can I help you?" You asked. The man colored a bit.

"Oh, yes. I'm looking for Miss Faye?" You smiled.

"You've found her," you said.

"Oh," he said surprised.

"Oh?" You asked, raising a brow. The man looked startled.

"No I just… I was, perhaps, expecting someone a bit older…" You opened your mouth to reply but he rushed on. "I'm so sorry, I was sent here by Mr. Grant?" It was your turn to be surprised.

"Mr. Scamander?" You asked. He nodded, becoming flustered under your gaze.

"The only," he said, grimacing after. "Well, apart from my father. And my brother…" You laughed.

"Mr. Grant tells me you have a sick creature," you said, eyes flicking down to his case. Newt nodded. "Well, I can't promise that I'll be able to help, but I promise I will do everything I possibly can."

"Thank you," he said quietly. You regarded him for a moment.

"You know," you said slowly, "you look awfully familiar, Mr. Scamander. Have we met before?"

He offered you a small smile, shaking his head. "I don't think so, but now that you mention it, I do get that feeling." You hummed, letting your eyes drift over his shoulder and behind him.

"Aha!" You called. Mr. Scamander jumped a little, looking at you in surprise. "There you are," you said, taking quick strides across the room and passing him. You shot him a smile. "I have been looking for _that_ book," you said, pointing up at your book on Dittany, "for hours." You stepped to the shelve reaching for the book, frowning when you realized it was just out of reach. "Merlin's beard," you cursed, turning to reach for your wand.

"Allow me," Mr. Scamander said, stepping next to you and reaching up to it with ease. He handed the book down to you and you hugged it to your chest.

"My hero," you joked. "Sometimes I think I'd give up magic to be just a little taller."

Mr. Scamander chuckled. "I'm sure you notice all kinds of things I don't from down there."

"Watch it, Mr. Scamander," you warned, smiling.

"Please," he said, "call me Newt."

"Ok, Newt," you said, turning from him and walking across to room to put the book on your desk. "I'm Dahlia." The sound of him dropping his case to the floor clumsily made you turn around. He was looking at you, face white. "You alright?" You asked him.

"What… what did you say your name was?"

You looked at him in confusion. "Dahlia… Dahlia Faye." Newt swallowed thickly and you frowned. "I mean, hey, maybe it's not super original, but my parents named me after my mark and - "

"Your mark?" Newt interrupted weakly. You flushed. Your mark wasn't something you normally talked about with strangers. You nodded. "Can I see it?" He asked quickly. You gave him a strange look.

"I… that's kind of personal, Newt." You looked at him for a moment, biting your lip. He looked stricken.

"You're right," he said, shaking his head. "You're right, I'm sorry."

"It's ok…" you said, trailing off. An awkward silence hung in the air. "I'm not one of those people who's just waiting around, you know." Newt looked up to you. You offered him a smile. "They say most people never find their partner, anyway."

"Of course," Newt said, but something in his voice seemed off.

"Should I take a look at your Nundu?" You asked. Newt furrowed his brow.

"What?" He asked. You chuckled.

"Your creature? The reason you're here?" You smiled as he colored. "You sure you're ok, Newt?"

"Yes," he said, shaking his head. "Yes, please… I'll show you to her." You smiled at him. He really was very handsome when he was flustered.


	2. Chapter 2

You sighed, standing. "Your Nundu is displaying some symptoms I'm familiar with," you said turning to Newt. "But I'll need to test out a potion on her to be sure."

"Is that safe?" He asked. You smiled.

"Yes," you said, glancing at the Nundu. She was stretched out on the grass, taking deep, shuddering breaths. "There is a catch, though," you added.

"A catch?"

"I need a sample of her hair for the potion," you said, smiling as Newt raised an eyebrow at you. "You can add a sleeping draught to her dinner?" You suggested. You reached into your pocket, pulling out a vial and offering it to him. He took it from you gingerly.

"You're sure this won't hurt her?" He asked you, jaw clenching.

"I promise," you assured him. "I know you don't know me very well, but I would never do anything to harm a living creature."

Newt looked at you and nodded. "Come on, then," he said, jerking his head towards the shed. You followed him inside and watched as he prepared the meat for the Nundu. He uncorked your vial and rubbed the draught into the food gently. "I'll go feed her quickly," he said. You nodded, watching him leave. You took a moment to look around, smiling when you realized he must be a bit of a Potions student himself. Plants and ingredients were stuffed into every available space. You walked to the table, reaching out and running your hand over a hand written page containing an unfamiliar recipe.

"I've been working on a potion that can resist burns," Newt said. You turned to see him in the doorway, watching you with a strange expression.

"Ah," you said, turning back to the paper. You read through it. "Have you tried Motherwort?" You asked.

"Motherwort…" he said, furrowing his brows. "In addition?" He walked over to you, peering down at the paper.

"No," you should your head. "In place of the mint. It's from the same family but has a little more…" you looked up to him. "Oomph."

"I'll have to try it," he smiled. You glanced at his table.

"You've everything here I need to make the Nundu's potion," you said. "I could make it here if you don't…" You trailed off, turning and catching Newt staring at you. "What?" You said, instinctively reaching up to touch your face. Newt reddened.

"No, it's nothing," he said quickly. "Please, you can use whatever you need."

"Great," you said. You started by grinding some ginger. "I think she has a form of kidney failure," you said. "I'm going to give her a potion to treat it and see if it has any impact." Newt watched you, fascinated.

"Is it caused by her diet?" He asked. You glanced to him, shaking your head.

"No," you said softly. "It's nothing you've done, Newt. Don't blame yourself." Newt gave you a half-smile, watching as you added a pinch of Goosegrass to the mortar.

"Where did you study?" He asked you suddenly.

"Is my accent that obvious?" You joked. He smiled. "I studied in New York, which is where I'm from." You added Neem oil to your mixture, stepping back as it hissed.

"Why on earth are you in London?" Newt asked.

"Oh, come on, now. You Englishmen aren't _all_ bad," you said, smiling as Newt chuckled. You bit your lip. "Knotgrass?"

"Ah," Newt said, stepping towards you and reaching above your head to a plant hanging near the ceiling.

"You smell like cinnamon," you said absently.

"O-oh," he said, blushing. "Do I?"

You grinned, taking the plant from his hands. "Yes," you said. You poured your mixture into a larger bowl and added in the Knotgrass. "Can you go and nip a bit of her hair?" You asked him. "She should be asleep by now." Newt nodded, turning to leave the shed. You stirred the mixture slowly, watching as the liquid thickened. He returned quickly, and you gestured for him to drop it in. You watched as the potion released a small puff of white smoke and smiled. "It just needs to brew now, for a few minutes," you said. You turned around and leaned back against the countertop, looking at Newt. "You want to know why I came to London, really?"

Newt's eyes flicked to yours as he gave you a nervous smile. "Not for the Englishmen?" He joked. You laughed.

"Maybe partly," you said, giving him a smile. "I just… got restless. I don't know how to explain it really, because New York is an amazing place. But… I woke up one day and thought… I have to get out." You shook your head. "I probably sound crazy."

"Not at all," Newt said, tilting his head and meeting your gaze. "I've felt the same pull, all my life."

"I'd imagine so," you said. "Mr. Grant told me you're quite the adventurer."

"I don't know about that," Newt said, blushing and looking away. "I've just sort of… wandered my way into things."

"That's how all adventures happen, isn't it?" You said grinning. You turned back to the potion, stirring it once more and then pouring it equally into three vials. "Here," you said, turning to Newt. "Give these to her with her morning meal for the next three days and then let me know if there's any improvement."

"I will," Newt said. "Thank you, Dahlia." You smiled at the way he said your name. It sounded so sacred coming from his lips.

"Of course, Newt," you said. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

* * *

"What happened to you?"

You slumped down onto the sofa next to your roommate. "I met someone," you said sadly.

Gian gave you a sympathetic smile. "I hate when that happens," he said. You shot him a look.

"I'm sorry, but do you know how hard it is to date with this mark on me?" You said, raising your wrist. "Men don't want anything to do with me. They say I 'belong' to someone else."

"Men are pigs," he said. "I don't know why you date them."

"Same reason you do, I'm guessing," you said, letting your head fall to his shoulder. He hummed.

"Look, why don't you just tell people it's a tattoo?" You sighed.

"I don't want to _lie_ to anybody," you said. "Besides… I already let it slip."

"Ouch," Gian said. "How'd he take it?"

"He was weird about it, like everybody else," you said. "He wanted to see it." Gian crinkled his nose.

"Did you show him?"

"Of course not!" You said. You were both quiet for a moment.

"So," Gian started hesitantly, "he said he wasn't interested?"

"Not exactly," you said. Gian raised an eyebrow at you. "Well, he didn't ask me _out,"_ you huffed.

"Oh," Gian said. "Well, it could be worse. Just ask him out yourself."

"I don't know," you said. "Actually, you may know of him."

"Oh?" Gian said, interested.

"Yeah, Newt Scamander?" Gian froze.

"The author?" He asked you.

"Yeah," you said.

"Merlin's beard, Dahlia. He's famous!" Gian sat up, turning his body towards you. You shrugged. "You never read his book?"

"I skimmed it," you lied.

"Dahlia, do you ever read anything that's not about Potions?"

"I'm not dignifying that with an answer."

"Because you don't," he said smiling. "You are so clueless."

"Ah, but not about Potions," you countered, returning his smile. He hit you with a pillow.

"Ask him out when you see him next. Please. I have to live vicariously through you."

"I'm going to die alone," you said dramatically. Gian chuckled and hugged you to him, grabbing your wrist and brushing his thumb over your mark.

"Do you think you'll ever find him?" He asked you quietly.

You sighed. "I don't know… I'm afraid to wait around for him, in case he never comes. But I'm afraid to fall in love with the wrong person, too." You looked up at him. "What do you think?"

"I think we make our own choices in life," he said. "I think that love is more complicated than a drawing on your wrist." You smiled, feeling the wisdom in his words.

"You're a smart man, you know that?" You joked. He smiled.

"Well, I _was_ a Ravenclaw." You shook your head.

"You Hogwarts riff-raff," you smiled. "Never would've survived at Ilvermorny."

"Don't make me laugh," he scoffed.

* * *

You were sitting at your desk making annotations in the margin of the newest Potion's Digest when you heard a knock at your door. "Come in," you called.

"Dahlia?"

You looked up, smiling at the sound of Newt's voice. "Newt!" You said brightly. "I didn't think I'd see you again so soon."

"Oh," Newt said, offering you a small smile. "Well you told me to check back after three days."

"Yes," you agreed, "but I thought you'd owl or something." Newt blushed.

"Oh, I suppose I could have…" he trailed off, and you laughed realizing he didn't think of that option.

"Well, since you've come all this way," you said, standing and coming around the desk to meet him, "tell me how the patient is doing?"

Newt gave you a bright smile. "She's completely recovered," he said. "It's so amazing to see her be herself again."

"I'm glad," you said truthfully. "I'll write down the directions for the potion, so you can brew it for her. She should continue to take it each morning." Newt nodded, and you turned back to your desk, grabbing a fresh sheet of paper. "I've been thinking about her," you admitted while writing. "I'm so happy that…" you looked up, trailing off as you saw Newt staring at the inside of your wrist. You hadn't worn a sweater since it was so warm in your office. Newt's eyes flicked to yours and he turned red.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to - "

"No," you interrupted. "It's ok. I… get it." You turned your wrist over, allowing him to look at it clearly. You smiled. "It's actually rather pretty, if you don't think about all the obligation and tradition tied to it," you joked. Newt didn't laugh. "Newt, I…"

"I was wondering," he said, not meeting your eyes, "if I could take you to dinner?" You gaped at him. "That is," he added quickly, "unless you'd rather not - "

"I'd love to," you said. He met your eyes and smiled. "I'm sorry, but I have to ask," you started nervously, "the mark doesn't bother you?"

"No," he said quickly, shaking his head and offering you a weak smile. You beamed at him.

"Ok," you said.

"Tonight?" He asked.

"Oh," you said, surprised at his timing. "Yes, tonight."

"Brilliant," he said. He stood there awkwardly. "I'll… owl you then. With where and what time."

You laughed. "So now you can use owls?" Newt shook his head, giving you a lopsided grin and turning to leave. "Oh! Wait," you said, scribbling the rest of the potion on the paper and walking to him. You folded it up and placed it in the breast pocket of his vest, thrilling at the contact. "There," you said, looking up and meeting his eyes. He swallowed.

"Thank you," he said.

"Anytime," you smiled. He lingered for a moment, looking at you, and then abruptly turned and left your office.

"Definitely cinnamon," you said to nobody in particular.


	3. Chapter 3

You sipped your wine, hiding a smile behind your glass as you watched Newt fidgeting at the table. He kept unfolding and refolding his napkin, eyes darting from yours to his plate.

"Don't do this often, do you, Mr. Scamander?"

Newt coughed, taking a drink of water with shaky hands. "I don't do this _ever_ ," he said, offering you a weak half-smile and staring at the table.

You raised a brow at him and hummed. "I'm flattered," you said, leaning your chin on your hand. "But I promise I won't…" You trailed off, seeing something green peek out of his breast pocket. "Hey now, what's that?"

Newt looked down to his pocket, smiling as he saw what caught your attention. "That," he said proudly, "is Pickett, my Bowtruckle." The Bowtruckle looked at you and clicked.

"Well, hello Pickett," you said. Pickett chattered at you, making you chuckle. "I've never seen one before," you admitted.

Newt shot you a smile. "Yes, well… Pickett knows better than to make unwanted appearances," he said, giving him a pointed look.

"No," you shushed Newt. You leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially to the Bowtruckle. "Don't let him boss you around, now, Pickett. You are perfectly welcome here." Pickett clicked at you excitedly and you laughed, glancing up at Newt. He was watching you with a small smile.

"Don't give him ideas," he admonished.

"Oh, please," you said, waving your hand dismissively. "Do you know what it's like to live in a pocket?"

"I suppose not," Newt said, an amused smile spreading over his face.

"Well," you said with an air of finality.

"Do you do this often?" He asked you suddenly. It took you a minute to understand what he meant, and when you did you laughed. He reddened. "I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "That was probably a rude question."

"It's fine," you said. "To be honest, I do it more often than I'd like to." You smiled at his confused look. "First dates," you clarified.

Newt furrowed his brow. "Oh," he said. "Why?"

"Why what?" You asked him.

"Why is it more often than you'd like?" His question wasn't judgemental, just curious. You smiled at him, rolling your eyes dramatically.

"It's exhausting!" You said, slumping down in your seat. "It's always 'where did you grow up?' 'What do you do for a living?' 'What do you do for fun?' 'What's your favorite food?' All just to decide if you like someone or not... " You laughed, shaking your head. "I wish I could just fill out a form or something beforehand to skip the process."

Newt looked at you for a moment, a playful glint in his eyes. "A form might detract from the romance, don't you think?"

You laughed and shrugged. "Maybe." For a moment you both looked at each other, silly grins on your faces. Newt's eyes slowly drifted over your right shoulder, noticing someone behind you. You turned to follow his gaze and saw a pretty, dark-haired woman. You looked back to Newt, who had paled considerably. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach.

"Old friend?" You asked him, already knowing the answer.

"Let's go," he said suddenly, standing. He gave you a quick smile, offering his hand to help you up. You took it, knowing better than to argue. You and Newt passed by the woman quickly, and you had just began to think you were in the clear when a voice called out behind you.

"Newt?"

Newt froze next to you, not turning. You looked over your shoulder, seeing the woman approaching. You pulled on his arm gently and he seemed to break out of his reverie. He turned mechanically to face her. The woman smiled at him.

"I knew it was you," she said. "I'd recognize that old coat anywhere." You frowned at her tone of voice. Something told you she wasn't being friendly.

"Leta," he said, clenching his jaw. She looked you up and down.

"And you are?"

You put on a smile, extending your hand. "Dahlia," you said. Her eyebrows shot up and she looked to Newt immediately.

"Dahlia?" She asked him. You felt Newt stiffen beside you.

"Yes, Dahlia," you repeated. Leta looked back to you, taking your hand suddenly and twisting it over to see your wrist. "Hey!" You hissed. "What are you - "

"You're marked," Leta said darkly. You yanked your hand out of her grasp.

"Enough," Newt said firmly, stepping in front of you and shielding you from her. "Goodnight, Leta." He turned abruptly, taking your arm and hurrying you out of the restaurant.

"What," you said, turning on him as soon as you were outside, "the _hell_ was that?"

Newt shook his head. "I'm so sorry," he said, anxiously running a hand through his hair. "She's a dark person."

"I'll say," you said, rubbing your wrist.

"Are you alright?" He asked, closing the distance between you. You looked up at him and saw the worry etched in his face.

"Yeah," you sighed. "I'm fine." You let your hand drop to your side as you gazed up at him, raising a brow. "You sure you're worth all this trouble?" You asked him, humor back in your voice.

"No," he said honestly, and you laughed. He smiled down at you, a real smile, and you felt dazed by the sight of it. "Winchester," he said.

You blinked. "What?"

"I grew up in Winchester. I'm a Magizoologist. For fun I like to read, mostly academic papers or journals, which I know isn't very fun for most people. Growing up my favorite meal was always Sunday roast, though I can't make it myself without burning it." He gave you a small smile, meeting your eyes. "And I've already decided that I like you very much, Dahlia." You felt your stomach flip and your cheeks burn.

"Well," you breathed. "That settles it," you said.

"Settles it?" He asked, confused. You nodded.

"A form really _would_ detract from the romance."

You and Newt had begun to walk in the direction of your apartment, and, though you knew he was telling you about a particularly interesting adventure he had in Egypt, all you could think about was how his hand kept brushing against yours as you walked together.

"Dahlia?"

You blushed immediately, realizing you had no idea what Newt was saying. You looked up at him and smiled. "I'm sorry," you said. "I was so busy listening to you talk I forgot to hear what you were saying…"

Newt colored a bit, but he looked pleased. "Oh...I see," he said. You nudged him with your elbow.

"Ask me again," you prompted. "I'm listening this time, I swear."

Newt chuckled, shooting you a sideways glance. "I was asking if you've done any traveling yourself?"

"Oh, I've been here and there," you said noncommittally. "I'd like to travel more, but I'm very busy with my work, you know."

"Mr. Grant tells me you're the most sought-after Potions expert in Europe," Newt said.

"Mr. Grant is very kind," you smiled.

"I've been reading your published works," Newt said, "and I don't think his praise is misplaced at all. Your experimental Potions work is especially remarkable - I've actually implemented some of your theories into my own potion-making and achieved immediate success."

"I'm flattered," you said truthfully. "Most people don't like hearing my theories."

Newt gave you a confused look. "Why ever not?"

"Because I'm young. And a witch." Newt didn't seem to understand. "My profession is littered with very old, very distinguished wizards… they don't necessarily ask for or _want_ my opinions, even if they're helpful to the field."

"That's very backwards, if you ask me."

"Yes," you sighed. "Well, unfortunately you don't make the rules."

Newt smiled down at you. "I could seek my Swooping Evil on them?"

You laughed and shook your head. You looked up, realizing with surprise that you were already on your block, and that you must have walked home instinctively. "This is my street," you told Newt. He nodded. You made your way to your door, turning to Newt before unlocking it. "Which of my works did you read anyways?"

Newt was quiet for a moment. "All of them," admitted finally.

" _All_ of them?" You asked. Newt colored. "Merlin's beard… _I_ don't even think they're that interesting."

"Yes… well…" Newt trailed off. You smiled, reaching down and taking his hand. Newt's eyes flicked to yours in surprise.

"Brooklyn."

"I'm sorry?" Newt asked. You smiled.

"I grew up in Brooklyn, by Prospect Park. I brew potions for a living. For fun I like to go to Muggle museums and study the beautiful things they've done without magic. I've always been partial to Chocolate Frogs, though I'm aware that they aren't really considered a 'food'… and I like you, Newt Scamander." Newt seemed dazed by your response, looking down at you in silence. Finally he lifted your hand and brushed your knuckles against his lips, softly.

"Definitely better than a form," he said, smiling. You hummed, leaning closer to him.

"Why do I feel like I've been waiting my whole life to meet you?" You said absently. Newt squeezed your hand, causing you to meet his gaze.

"Dahlia," he started. "I - "

Newt was interrupted by your front door abruptly swinging open to reveal your pajama-clad roommate. You jumped apart, turning red.

"I was just about to call the Ministry," Gian chided, freezing with wide eyes as soon as he saw Newt. "Merlin's beard," he said, "Are you Newton Scamander?"

"I… yes. Y-yes." Newt was flustered, looking between you and Gian with pink cheeks.

"This is my roommate, Mr. Bad-Timing," you said, shooting Gian a glare.

"I am a _huge_ fan," he told Newt, ignoring your look. "Would you sign my copy of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?"

"Oh," Newt said, looking at you. "S-sure. Of course."

"Great!" Gian said, disappearing back into the apartment. You laughed.

"I'm sorry about him." You smiled up at Newt. He chuckled.

"I should probably be off, anyways," he said. He brought his hand up to your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. "Goodnight," he whispered.

"Goodnight," you said. He stepped back and offered you a small wave. You waved back and turned to your door, but before you had a chance to go inside you felt him grab your arm.

"I'm sorry," he said, leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead. He lingered there for a moment before stepping away and disapparating.

"Ok, got the book," Gian said, pulling the door open. He frowned when he saw you alone. "Where'd he go?"

You gave him a dazed smile. "Do we have any Chocolate Frogs left?" Gian smirked at you.

"That good, huh?"


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a week since you'd last seen Newt. He had suddenly become very busy at the Ministry, which was just as well because you had recently been contracted to develop a new potion for the treatment of Doxy bites. Problem was, every batch you'd brewed so far had somehow made the symptoms even worse.

"I need something to reduce the swelling…" you said, scanning your workshop. You frowned, pulling your hair into a messy bundle on the top of your head. You'd already tried every ingredient in your supply, in every possible combination. A soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. "Come in," you said absently.

"Hope I'm not intruding."

You turned, stomach flipping at Newt's familiar voice. "Not at all," you smiled, waving him in. He grinned, stepping in and shutting the door behind him, almost knocking down a glass vial from your tabletop.

"Sorry," he said, quickly setting it back upright. He gave you a once over, the corner of his mouth ticking upwards in a smile as he noticed your hair. "Tough week?"

"You've no idea," you said, turning back to your cauldron. "I'm trying to develop a new antidote for Doxy bites."

"Ah," Newt said, crossing the room and stepping beside you. "Nasty buggers, Doxies."

"I should have guessed you'd have practical experience with them," you smiled, arching an eyebrow in his direction.

"I studied them for a while in America," Newt said. "They are really quite charming once you get past the biting."

"I'm sure," you said. He chuckled, and you took a moment to appreciate the wrinkles that formed around his eyes when he laughed. "How was your week, anyway?"

Newt smiled. "Filled with busywork, I'm afraid. Quite uneventful and boring." He watched you as you added rosemary to your cauldron. It hissed violently and released a cloud of black smoke.

"Bugger," you sighed. "That is the fifth batch I've ruined today." You turned to Newt, shaking your head. "Why did I pick this career, again?"

"I've no idea," he said, offering you a small smile. "I've always been rotten at it, myself." You chuckled, waving your wand over your cauldron and cleaning up your mess.

"I have a hard time believing you're rotten at anything, Mr. Scamander."

Newt colored and smiled. "Yes, well. You'd be surprised." He fidgeted a bit, brushing his hands on the front of his vest.

"Something on your mind?"

"No," he said quickly, eyes darting to yours.

You raised a brow at him. "Okay…" Newt stared at the floor, clenching his jaw. You smiled. "It's good to see you, you know."

"Really?" He asked, genuinely surprised. You laughed, nodding. He gave you a small smile. "Actually, there _is_ something I wanted to ask you…" He trailed off, swallowing. "This week I've been busy preparing for a conference in Berlin. I'm going to be presenting a proposal for a ban on the experimental breeding of magical creatures, you see." You nodded, smiling and waiting for him to continue. "It's this weekend," he added, meeting your gaze.

"That's fantastic," you said. "I'd love to hear your proposal sometime, actually. I've heard those breeders can be horrible - "

"Would you come with me?" He said, interrupting you.

"You mean… to Berlin? This weekend?"

Newt reddened a bit. "Yes, although I know it's short notice…"

"Ok," you said.

"Sorry?" Newt asked, eyes meeting yours in confusion.

"Ok," you repeated. "I'll go." You smiled at his surprise. "Did you think I'd say no?"

"Yes," Newt said truthfully. "But I'm glad you didn't." He gave you a lopsided grin, and you instinctively took a step towards him, reaching out and placing your hand flat against his chest. He looked down at you in surprise but didn't move away, and you took a moment to study his face.

"You have so many freckles," you said, reaching up and running your index finger along his jaw. He blushed.

"Yes," he whispered. "I've had them all my life."

"They're beautiful," you said, smiling. You closed your eyes and leaned into him, molding your body against his. Newt was still for a moment before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. You smiled into his chest.

"Thank you," he murmured into your hair. "For coming with me."

"I'd love to act aloof around you," you said, breaking apart from him and smiling. "But there's just something about you, Newt Scamander." He gazed down at you with a soft smile, brushing a strand of hair away from your face and behind your ear. "What is that, do you think?" Newt winced a bit and laughed uncomfortably.

"Maybe my freckles?" He offered. You shook your head, stepping away from him and back to your cauldron.

"Maybe."

* * *

"You're going away with him for the weekend?" Gian asked you incredulously.

"It's not a romantic getaway," you said curtly, zipping up your bag. "It's for a conference."

"Right," Gian smirked. "You sure this is a good idea? You've only been out with him once before…"

"I know," you said, shaking your head. "I just... " You bit your lip. "There's something about him. I can't put my finger on it, but it's like… I have this physical sensation of being drawn to him when I'm near him." Gian hummed.

"Sounds dangerous," he said, sitting on your bed. You sighed and sat next to him. "I'm not going to tell you how to live your life," he started, taking your hand in his, "but be careful."

You nodded, turning your palm over in his hand and staring at the dahlia on your wrist. "It feels more like a curse," you said frowning at it.

"At least you know there's someone out there for you, somewhere?" He offered.

"But I have someone _here_ ," you argued. "What if this means Newt and I are destined to fail?"

"You know that's not how it works," Gian admonished. You groaned, laying back on the bed. "Dahlia, if he doesn't care, you shouldn't care." You pulled a pillow over your face and Gian chuckled at you. "Hey," he said, shaking your leg. "If you knew for a fact that this would end in heartbreak, would you still go with him this weekend?"

You thought for a moment, sighing and pulling the pillow off your face. "Yes," you admitted.

"Well then," he said, standing. "Do me a favor." You shot him a look.

"What favor?"

"Take my copy of his book with you and get it signed?" He said, smiling.

He barely missed being hit by the pillow you threw at his head.

* * *

"Are you Newt Scamander?"

You smiled, watching Newt blush under the girl's starstruck gaze. You were standing at the front desk in the lobby of your hotel, having just arrived through the Floo Network in Berlin. The receptionist had recognized Newt immediately, widening her eyes in surprise before he could ask for the room key.

"Um," he said, forcing a smile. "Yes. I should have a room booked?" The girl flashed him a grin.

"Would you sign something for me?" She leaned over the counter, resting her chin on her hand and gazing up at him. He looked to you for help.

"Two Galleons," you said to the girl. Newt coughed as you turned to wink at him.

"You his girlfriend or something?" She asked you, looking you up and down.

"Sorry, if you wouldn't mind checking for our room?" Newt said. The girl huffed and handed him a room key. "Shall we?" He asked, giving you a tired smile. You nodded.

You collapsed face down onto the bed as soon as you got through the door.

"Tired?" Newt asked, chuckling.

"Mmmph," you said, face pressed into the comforter. You turned your head, watching him as he took off his jacket and draped it over the armchair in the corner of the room. You had never seen him without his jacket before, you realized, and though he was still wearing a long sleeved shirt and vest you blushed at the intimacy of the moment. You rolled over and sat up, scooting up the bed until your back was against the headboard. Newt was removing papers from his case, spreading them out at the foot of the bed into neat piles. "Are you nervous?" You asked him. His eyes flicked to yours in surprise.

"I always am," he admitted. "I'm not the best public speaker."

"Do you want to practice?" You asked him. He blushed.

"I think I'm even more nervous in front of you," he said quietly.

"Then if you can do it now, it'll be that much easier tomorrow!" You flashed him a grin and he laughed. "Come on," you said, motioning for him to sit at the edge of the bed. "Face away from me." Newt raised a brow at you but complied, sitting at the edge of the bed and facing the wall. You scooted closer behind him and handed him his papers. "Start talking," you said.

Newt shook his head, smiling. You listened to him read in silence for a while, enjoying the sound of his voice and being close to him. After a few minutes you leaned forward, resting your chin on his shoulder so you could read along with what he was saying. He paused momentarily at the contact, leaning back into your chest and smiling as you wrapped your arms around his middle. You turned your head towards his ear.

"Keep going," you whispered.

"You are terribly distracting," he said, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

"All part of my plan to make you a better speaker," you said, smiling into the crook of his neck. He hummed. "Keep going," you said again.

Newt resumed his reading, stopping every now and then to glance at you. You were past the point of listening to anything he said, your heart pounding in your chest from being so close to him. You leaned forward, kissing him on the jaw. Newt closed his eyes.

"Dahlia," he whispered, turning his head towards you. You caught his lips in a kiss, deepening it as he threaded his hand through the hair on the back of your head. You broke apart from him, planting open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and neck, your hands quickly working the buttons on his vest. He inhaled sharply as you brushed your lips against his Adam's apple, cupping your face and kissing you desperately on the mouth. He repeated his actions over and over, slowing down time, each kiss more relaxed than the last. When he finally broke apart from you, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and kissed the tip of your nose. You gave him a dazed smile.

"Great speech," you said. Newt laughed, kissing you softly.

"I'm not sure your plan helped much," he said, resting his forehead against yours and smiling. You hummed. "It's late," he said. You yawned on cue.

You nodded, pulling away from him and sighing at the loss of contact. You grabbed a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom to wash your face. You changed quickly, standing in front of the mirror and staring at your reflection. Your eyes were drawn immediately to the dahlia on your wrist. You felt your stomach sink. _If only you could wash it off and forget it ever existed…_ You shook your head, turning and leaving the bathroom.

Newt was kneeling on the ground in front of his case, having changed out of his white shirt and into a knit jumper. You smiled at his modesty, wondering if he ever rolled up his sleeves. You walked to him and ran your hand through his hair, smiling as he closed his eyes at the contact. "Ready for bed?" You asked.

"Yes," he said, standing up and pulling you to his chest. He kissed the top of your head, smiling into your hair. "I'll be in the case if you need anything."

"In the case?" You said, looking up at him. He blushed.

"I didn't invite you here with any expectations," he said. "I was planning to sleep in my case and let you take the bed."

"Nonsense," you said, running a finger along his jawline. You turned and crawled into the bed, pulling back the sheets and patting the mattress next to you. Newt stared at you, glued to his spot. "No funny business," you promised. He smiled, shaking his head at you and climbing into the bed. You turned and grabbed your wand from the bedside table. "Nox."

You both laid quietly in the dark, not touching. You could hear Newt breathing next to you, quick and shallow. You were nervous, too. You reached down between you, finding his hand and lacing your fingers with his.

"You're going to be great tomorrow, you know," you said. Newt squeezed your hand.

"Thank you. It means a lot to me that you're here." You turned towards him as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his body. You curled yourself against him and rested your head on his shoulder.

"It means a lot to me that you invited me," you said truthfully. You were quiet then, listening to his breathing and falling asleep to the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

"I have to tell you something," he said, pulling you from sleep.

"Hmmm?" You kept your eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of his skin. You felt him lift your wrist and brush his thumb over your mark.

"Dahlia…" he whispered.

"Mmmm," you said, drifting.

You felt him lean down and kiss your forehead before everything faded into black and you fell into a peaceful rest.


	5. Chapter 5

You woke up slowly, opening your eyes to the morning sunlight streaming in through the hotel window. You could feel Newt's body behind you, his chest against your back, and you smiled as his breath tickled your ear. You turned over to face him.

"Good morning," you said, kissing the corner of his mouth. He stirred in response, opening one eye to look at you. He smiled sleepily and hummed. "Did you sleep well?"

Newt leaned forward and placed a kiss on your forehead, bringing his hand up to your hip. "Better than usual," he whispered. You snuggled into his chest, sighing as he pulled you closer and began to rub small, lazy circles on the small of your back.

"What time are you speaking today?" You asked, voice muffled by his jumper.

"Not until this afternoon," he said. You breathed him in, feeling slightly dizzy from his touch. You wondered if you'd always feel so intoxicated by him. "What's that?" He asked you. You blushed, not realizing you had spoken out loud.

"Oh," you said. "Just a little dizzy…"

Newt pulled back from you, looking at you in concern. "Dizzy?" You smiled, shaking your head.

"Pine," you said quietly.

"Are you quite alright?" He asked. You tilted your head up, letting your lips brush against his.

"You smell like cinnamon and pine," you whispered.

"Oh," Newt said, waiting a moment before lowering his lips to yours. You pressed your body into his and he sighed against your mouth, allowing you to deepen the kiss. You noted he tasted faintly of mint as you slid your hand beneath his sweater, running your hand over his abdomen and relishing in the way his muscles twitched under your fingers. Every part of you felt like it was on fire - like your body was coming alive for the first time. Newt broke apart from you suddenly, trailing kisses down your neck and along your collarbone. His hand found its way under your shirt and you shuddered as he traced the length of your spine with his fingertips. He shifted his body over yours, leaning down and capturing your mouth in a desperate kiss. You felt him reach for the hem of your shirt and you lifted your body up, allowing him to pull it over your head and discard it on the floor. His eyes darkened as they raked over you. You pulled him down to your lips and kissed him again, groaning against his mouth when you felt his hand brush against the side of your breast.

"Newt," you whispered urgently, reaching down and lifting up the edge of his sweater.

"Wait," he said suddenly, pulling back from you. You stared up at him, smiling at his swollen lips and messy hair.

"Why?" You asked, tugging at his jumper. You brought yourself up on your elbows and planted a kiss on his Adam's apple. Newt closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.

"Dahlia, I have to tell you something."

"Ok," you said, biting your lower lip. Newt leaned forward and kissed you softly. He rolled over, laying on his back beside you and reaching for your hand, lacing his fingers together with yours.

"I haven't been completely honest with you," he said slowly. He turned to look at you, raising your hand and brushing his lips against your knuckles. "I'm marked, too" he said.

You were silent for a moment, your ears ringing. "What?" You said weakly.

"I don't want someone to love me out of obligation," he said. "I don't want someone to love me because they _have_ to. I want someone to love me, just because it's me." He searched your eyes, looking for some hint that you understood. "Nobody has ever loved me for who I am, Dahlia. I can't bear the thought of someone not actively choosing me. I don't want to catch someone who doesn't want to be caught. I need to be wanted."

You chewed the inside of your cheek. He was right, of course. It's what you had always wanted for yourself. The right to choose who you love and how you love them. The freedom of making your own way. You looked at Newt, feeling your heart swell for him. You turned and leaned over him, kissing him deeply.

"I want you," you said, moving on top of him. "I chose you."

"Dahlia," he said, hands gripping your hips. "There's more." You rolled your hips against his, making him groan.

"No more," you said, your voice breathy. "I don't want to hear more. I just want you." You leaned down, placing your mouth against his ear. "I _need_ you." Newt made a strangled noise in his throat and flipped you over, kissing you hard. Nothing else needed to be said.

* * *

"You nervous?" You asked Newt, straightening his bowtie. You were with him backstage, giving him a final once-over before he delivered his proposal.

"Always," he said, giving a small smile. "But less so with you." You smiled, standing on your tip-toes and pressing a kiss to the hollow of his cheek.

"Even with all our practicing?" You said, smiling as he blushed.

"Are you ready Mr. Scamander?" You both turned toward the stage manager. Newt nodded at him, swallowing.

"You'll be great," you assured him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "I'm so proud of you." He smiled down at you, cupping your cheek with his hand.

"Thank you," he said. "Wait for me here?" You nodded, watching him turn and make his way onto the stage to thunderous applause.

"Fancy seeing you here."

You turned around, blood running cold at the sight of the woman before you.

"Leta," she said, smiling at you.

"I remember," you said. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to support an old friend, of course." Her eyes drifted to the stage, glancing at Newt. "We have a long history, you know."

"He hasn't mentioned you," you said cooly. Leta smiled.

"We went to Hogwarts together, actually. I was hoping to rekindle our… friendship." You watched her as she stepped closer to you, her eyes darting down to your wrist.

"He knows about it," you said confidently. Leta gave you a strange look and narrowed her eyes.

"I would imagine he would," she said slowly. You felt anger bubble inside of you, but you weren't sure why.

"I don't know what you're playing at, Leta, but Newt is _choosing_ me. We may not be 'destined' to be together, but I don't want to be with anyone else." Leta stared at you, her mouth slightly open. A slow smile spread over her face.

"You don't know," she said. You clenched your jaw.

"Know what?"

Leta laughed, a sound that made you sick to your stomach. "I know who your soulmate is," she sang.

"I don't believe you," you said slowly. Leta shrugged.

"You don't have to believe me. But I know who has your mark. Went to school with him," she said, clearly enjoying herself.

"Who is it?" You asked her, the words tumbling from your mouth before you had the chance to think them through.

"Ah, ah, ah," she said, waving her finger. "Information always comes at a price." She grinned at you, stepping close enough to whisper in your ear. "If I tell you, you have to promise to never see Newt again… through an Unbreakable Vow."

"No," you said quickly, stepping away from her. "I won't do it."

"Your choice," she said coyly. "You've only known Newt a short time. Your soulmate is your destiny."

"I make my own choices, Leta."

"Leta?"

Newt was by your side suddenly, having finished his proposal.

"I was just leaving," Leta said, stepping away. "Think about what I said, Dahlia." You watched her until she disappeared down the hall.

"Are you alright?" Newt asked you. You glanced up and offered him a shaky smile.

"I'm perfect," you said.

* * *

Newt watched you in silence, frowning as you pushed the food around on your plate for the fifth time that night.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Hmmmm?" You hummed, glancing up at him. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm just…" You shook your head. "I'm just in my head." Newt smiled at you, reaching out and putting his hand over yours.

"Take me with you?" He asked. You laughed.

"Newt," you started, biting your lip. "It really doesn't bother you that I'm marked?"

"No," he said quickly, looking down at the table. You raised a brow.

"You're not at all curious about yours?"

Newt furrowed his brow. "I don't want to be told who to love. And I especially don't want something telling somebody else to love me."

"Of course," you said, nodding.

"Dahlia," Newt said anxiously, "where is this coming from?" You hesitated for a moment.

"Leta told me this afternoon she knows the person who has my mark." You watched him as his face paled. "I told her I didn't care," you rushed on. "It's just…"

"You _do_ care," he finished. You shook your head.

"No," you said quickly. "I don't know," you added, sighing. You looked up at him. "I've never felt the way I feel about you before. I've never wanted to be with someone so badly. I can't imagine giving you up." You turned your hand over, intertwining your fingers with his and squeezing. "I don't _want_ to give you up." You smiled at him, hoping he could feel how much you cared.

"I know him, too," Newt said softly. Your smile fell.

"What?"

Newt looked up at you, guilty. "I know who has your mark," he said. You stared at him.

"I… no. No, you're joking…"

"I'm not."

Your face burned and you felt tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You pulled your hand away from his. "Why…"

"Dahlia, I can explai - "

"No," you interrupted, surprised by how harsh your voice sounded. You stood suddenly. "I need to go."

"Dahlia," Newt said desperately, standing with you. "Dahlia, wait." You looked at him, feeling your heart break in your chest. "I can explain," he said, voice watery.

"I'm choosing to leave," you said flatly. You turned from him, disapparating away.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Two weeks later…_**

"Hey," Gian said, stepping into your room. "I brought you tea." He placed the cup down on your bedside table and sat on the edge of your bed. "How are you?"

"Miserable," you said. You rolled over to face him and he gave you a sad smile. "Betrayed," you added. "Confused. Heartbroken."

"He wrote you yesterday," he said.

"I don't want to read it." You pulled the covers over your head, burying your face in your pillow to escape the pain you felt in your chest.

"I thought you might say that," he said, "so I read it for you."

"Excuse me!" You said, pulling the covers back and glaring at him. "That's personal…" You felt the tears before you knew you were crying. Gian laid next to you, pulling you close to him.

"It's ok to cry," he said. You buried your face in his chest, wetting his sweater with your tears.

"I'm sorry," you said. "I'm so sorry…"

"It's ok," Gian said.

"This is so stupid," you said. " _I'm_ stupid."

"You're not stupid," Gian chided. "You're in love."

"I barely know him…" you trailed off, not believing yourself enough to continue. You missed him. You felt empty without him. You _loved_ him. "I just… I thought I had control of my future. I thought I had control."

"You still do," Gian said.

" _Do I?"_ Your voice was bitter. You stared down at your wrist and frowned at your marked skin. You were both quiet for a moment, the room filled with your angry sobs.

"Did you know," Gian said, "that dahlias are a symbol for commitment?" He looked down at you, smiling. "They symbolize a bond that lasts forever."

You smiled, despite yourself. "The irony, right?"

"Fuck destiny," he said suddenly, startling you. "What do _you_ want?" You shook your head sadly.

"Him."

"You really should read his letter," Gian said quietly. He squeezed you, breaking apart from your embrace and sitting up. "I'll leave it by your tea." He left the room, closing the door gently behind him. You turned your head, fixing your gaze on the letter and biting your lip. You picked it up and unfolded it gingerly.

 _Dahlia,_

 _I didn't know if I should write this letter, because if I were you, I wouldn't read it - but I'm writing it, hope against hope, that you find it in your heart to. Something happened to me when we met, something I still don't fully understand… I wanted you for myself, so desperately, that I sacrificed your free will for mine. Love is about making choices, and I never let you make your own. I want you to have that freedom._

 _When I think about my life tomorrow, a year from now, or twenty years from now; you're there. Here I will stop to be clear - I have never been romantic. The idea of soulmates, of destiny… it has never impressed me. It's you, Dahlia, that has changed me. Just you, and all that you are, and all that you will become. I could care less for eternity if you aren't there beside me. It may have taken me thirty years to find you, but loving you only took me moments._

 _Whatever you decide to do, know this; I choose you. I want you. I love you._

 _Yours indefinitely,_

 _Newton Artemis Fido Scamander_

"Git," you said out loud to nobody, fresh tears spilling from your eyes. You got up, pulling a sweater over your head. You made your way to the bedroom door, stopping for a moment and looking at yourself in the mirror above your dresser. Your hair was a mess, your nose was red, and you looked exhausted. You offered yourself a smile. "Perfect."

* * *

It wasn't until you got inside the Ministry that you realized you didn't really have a plan. You wandered the halls slowly, pretending not to notice the strange looks you were getting for your disheveled state of dress. Everything here was glossy and cold, all hard lines and smooth surfaces. You shivered.

After wandering for a bit you found your way to the Beast Division - which was really just a long corridor of offices. You passed by each one slowly, reading the names embossed on each door. It wasn't until the end of the hall, at the last door on the left, did you find Newt's. You traced your finger over the letters, feeling your throat constrict. _How can a name hold so much power?_ You reached for the doorknob, only mildly surprised to find it unlocked completely.

Newt's office was exactly how you envisioned it would be, and you smiled stepping into the familiarity. Books lined the walls. Plants seemed to be growing in every nook. He had his papers strewn about his desk and the floor in equal parts. His blue coat sat draped over his desk chair, looking positively lonely. You shook your head at his disorganization. His case was sitting in the middle of the room, and you kneeled gingerly to open the lid.

Taking a deep breath, you climbed down. Newt's workshop was empty, though a small cauldron was bubbling on the tabletop. You smiled realizing it was the potion you had made for his Nundu. You stepped out, making your way through the Mooncalves and the Occamys before hearing the muffled sound of Newt's voice coming from the direction of his Bowtruckle branch. You froze in place, watching quietly as Newt argued with Pickett. The small Bowtruckle was clinging to his hand, refusing to join his family on the tree.

"Now, Pickett," he said. "Don't argue. You can't live in my pocket forever." Pickett chirped angrily, holding on tightly to his thumb. "Pickett…" Newt warned. The Bowtruckle stuck his tongue out at him. Newt sighed. "You have been impossible lately," he said, trying to hide a smile. "You _have_ to learn to be on your own…" he trailed off, letting Pickett climb up his arm and back into his pocket. "I guess we both have to learn that, right?" Newt said softly, looking up at the charmed night sky. You bit your lip, feeling the familiar tug that you always felt around him pulling at your core.

"All great and precious things are lonely," you said. Newt jumped at the sound of your voice, turning toward you in shock. You looked up at the sky. "My mom used to tell me that when I was little." Newt was frozen in place, staring at you with wide eyes. You stepped toward him. "When I was young, too young to understand what a soulmate was, my mom would say that a piece of me was hiding somewhere in the world." You glanced at Newt and gave him a small smile. "Like hide-and-seek." You were next to him now, close enough to touch, though you didn't try to. "She told me that when I found my missing piece, I would feel whole again…" You tucked your hair behind your ear, turning to face him. "But you know what? I _hated_ when she said that. It just made me feel more empty. Why would the world hide a piece of myself from me? It seemed so cruel, even then."

Newt's hand twitched, reaching out to you but stopping midway. "And now?" He asked.

"I don't think soulmates are our missing pieces at all. I think we're born with all our pieces," you said. "But," you added softly, "perhaps our soulmates show us how those pieces fit together."

Newt was quiet, looking at you with stormy eyes. "I spent my entire childhood lonely," he said.

"And now?" You asked.

"Dahlia," he said, voice strained. "Why are you here?"

"I can't…" Your heart was beating wildly in your chest. "I can't be anywhere else, Newt. I can't be anywhere, but with you. I can't remember how…" His lips were on yours before you could finish, and you were rendered speechless by all your senses igniting at once. When you finally broke apart, both out of breath, Newt rested his forehead against yours and sighed.

"I love you, Dahlia," he said thickly. "But you have to know - "

"No," you said quickly. "I don't have to know. I don't want to know."

"Dahlia - "

"Newt, I love you." You pulled back, searching his face. "I love you."

"You never asked to see _my_ mark," he said, looking at you warily. You shook your head at his abrupt change in subject.

"It's…" You furrowed your brow. "It doesn't matter."

"I want you to see it," he said quietly. You looked at him, perplexed. "Please," he added, unbuttoning the cuff of his right sleeve.

"Newt," you whispered. He held his arm out to you.

"Go on," he said. You raised a brow at him, reaching up and beginning to roll up his sleeve.

"What," you said, pushing the fabric up his elbow and letting your fingers ghost over the scars on his skin. "Is it something strange?" You glanced up at him and gave him a half-smile as you turned his arm over, palm-side up. "Is it - " Your voice caught in your throat when you saw it, your wide eyes flying up to meet his. He gave you a small smile. You brushed your thumb over it, half-expecting it to rub off. It didn't. "It's a dahlia," you said weakly.

Newt nodded, cupping the side of your face with his free hand. "It's your dahlia," he said softly. You looked up, getting lost in his eyes. "It's _you,_ " he said. "It's always been you."

You let out a sound that was half laugh and half sob, biting your lip as you felt hot tears stream down your face. "How many times are you going to make me cry?" You said, wiping at them. Newt reached out, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to his lips.

"Never again," he said, kissing your mark. "Not for the rest of our lives." You laughed and kissed him, smiling into his mouth as he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you close.

"I guess I should probably read your book now, huh?" You said, grinning. Newt said nothing, choosing instead to kiss you again and again until finally you couldn't remember what life was like before kissing him - not that you'd want to.

* * *

Soulmate markings were extraordinarily rare in the Wizarding world. At one point they had been more commonplace, as they ran through the ancestral lines of old Wizarding families - but over time Witches and Wizards had seemed to take control of their own fates, often ignoring their markings altogether. A soulmate marking was of course no guarantee that you would actually _meet_ your predestined partner; only that one existed, somewhere in the world. Most with the markings never actually found their soulmates at all, instead falling in love with whomever was in closer proximity and living out quite happy lives, thank you very much.

Newt and Dahlia Scamander were a rare exception to that rule, but they of course knew how lucky they had been. It was with great joy, then, that they welcomed their three children into the world with absolutely no markings to be seen anywhere on their very tiny and very loved bodies.

"Except freckles," Newt Scamander would say.

"Except freckles," Dahlia Scamander would agree.

 _El fin._


End file.
